TYPE R EPISODE 1
by Sandokhan of Mochizuki
Summary: You have to know something about cars to understand this story, if you don't everyhting will go over your head. Simply put; ever heard of The Fast and the Furious? Well think of this as the Fast and the Furry-ous!
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue I**

The streets that night were buzzing with tension and excitement. Any beast who was any beast was out to watch one of the greatest showdowns Redwall City had ever seen, Sandokhan, the D1 champ that year would go head to head with Badrang, some out of town-er with a shiny Corvette Z06. The sidewalks were packed as the two revved their engines noisily.

The fox Sandokhan sat staring straight ahead; as well wishers poked their heads through the open door windows. A squirrelmaid walked in-between them and stopped at the Corvette and said one thing, "Paper." Badrang got out a wad of cash from his jacket and handed it to her. She then turned to Sandy's Skyline R34 and did likewise. Then she leaned into the Skyline and whispered, "He's sitting on a lot of power, so let him gain an edge. Your 4 wheel drive will do the rest!"

Badrang reved his engine again and leaned out of his window. "Just 'cause you can drift, don't mean you can drive! See you at the finish line bitch!"

_I'd like to see you try mate! _Sandy thought to himself. _Reliable Japanese 4WD against a bucking bull from the States. This is gonna be easy!_ The same rules applied; first one to the old abbey wins.

The squirrelmaid dropped a scarf, pistons throbbed, fuel combusted with air and tyres screeched as they launched into the night. The Corvette at first took a commanding lead, but the traction advantage of the R34 was proving to be a considerable match. As they turned off to take the last stretch of road Sandy was leading.

Then suddenly, a loud exploding noise ringed through his ears and the Skyline went into an acute sideways slide. Sandy grasped the wheel and turned furiously trying to compensate. As he looked out the window, the terrified faces of onlookers were burned into his memory as he slammed into them at 70 MPH. Over looking the scene from a car park, another fox stood next to an Audi talking softly into his cell phone, "Yeah, it's all taken care of...Yeah...It worked perfectly...just remember when you roll on in here who took out the only beast who could stop you... and remember, I want a VII GSR we cool? K...K Bye."

Sandy had his license revoked and was banned from driving for two years. He escaped jail time by saying it was a mechanical fault. From that day on, Sandy never pounded the streets again. That was until a wandering mouse named Martin came to him with a beaten up Ford Mustang Cobra R and asked if he could to do it up for him. As usual Sandy said, "No problem"...

**Prologue II**

Marshank City, 2 Years Later

"Eh!"

"Martin, it's Tim,"

"Hey Tim! Whassup?"

"It's your Grans... she's dead!" The mouse Martin went wide eyed and his heart sank as he hung up his cell phone. After the funeral, Martin sat in his Grandma's old house staring at a random point in the center of the room. He never moved a muscle nor said a word. His friend Timbalisto sat next to him, "I've only seen you like this once before... and that was when your Dad left for the army." Martin didn't reply. "If you need anything, you know your big brother's here... right?"

"I'm gonna be leaving tomorrow," Martin said in a monotone voice.

"Leave for where?"

"South,"

"Where south?" Tim enquired but Martin didn't reply.

The following morning, Martin packed a large duffle bag with clothes and money. Tim slumped in his doorway "So, I guess you'll be going now?" Martin pulled the bag shut with the neck chord and fastened it tight. "Are you gonna be taking that old Pontiac? I'm surprised the engine hasn't fallen out of the bedding by now!"

"Yeah, but it still goes doesn't it?"

"Look, get ready and meet me in the garage."

Tim waited for him by a car covered with a dustsheet. When Martin entered, he whipped the sheet off to reveal a Cobra R Mustang. "This is WAY more reliable than that old Pontiac." He then threw the key at his younger friend, who caught them in mid air. "Keep it! A present from your big bro! I't may be a bit beat up on the outside, but it still runs like a dream."

"Thank you Tim." Martin replied as he extended his paw for Tim to shake. He took his paw and embraced him. "Just promise me you'll be careful, yeah?"

"While I'm away, could you keep a close eye on Rose for me?"

"I think a whiley girl like her can look after herself but... yeah I'll keep an eye on her."

"Thanks Tim,"

"Adios amigo!"

Martin drove his car down a suburban road to take him to the freeway heading south. He peered out the side windows trying to burn images into his mind so it would be easier to remember. Suddenly, he felt something slam into the back of him. He peered at his rear-view mirror and saw an old, black 1972 Dodge Challenger tailgating him with a evil looking rat behind the wheel. The black eye patch added to the ferocity of his appearance. Then, he turned left and saw a Lotus V8, whose driver signalled him to follow.

Martin looked to his right and saw a black and silver Saleen S7. All three cars had black, white and red anarchy "A" symbols. Martin's eyes went wide, _Crap! Corsairs _he thought to himself. The three cars led him to an alleyway in the central business district. At the end of the alley, next to a disused loading bay, sat a red Chevrolet Corvette Z06, with a stoat standing in front of it.

The Lotus stopped next to him and a ferret, with six claws on one paw, walked up to the stoat. "Hey Baders! Look who we caught trying to skip town!" The stoat Badrang strolled up to the Mustang and peered in at Martin with a menacing glance. "Hi Martin! Whatcha doing?"

"You know me. Just out for a cruise..."

"In Timbal's car?" Badrang interupted as he leaned into the drivers' side and twisted the keys out the ignition. He then opened the side door. "Now why don't I believe you? Get out of the car!" Martin did as he was bid and stood in front of the stoat looming over him. "So how ya been? How's your dysfunctional family?"

"I'm burying my grandma, you know that,"

"Yeah I guess so. Got anything for me?"

"No,"

The ferret Swart interrupted them, "Hey! Keep this quick. He have pavement to pound!"

"What you want from me this time?" With that, Badrang paced forward and punched Martin as hard as he could in the stomach. Martin gasped noisily as all the air escaped from his body and dropped to his knees wheezing uncontrollably. While the rat wearing the eye patch went through his glove compartment and held out a wad of cash. "Well what do we have here?"

"I'll take that Patch." Martin glared up in a mixture of pain and rage, "THAT'S MY MONEY!" he yelled. "No it isn't," Badrang replied "it's your contribution! A need some more N2O! C'mon guys let's ride!" The others got into their cars and revved their engines. Badrang stood over Martin once more and smiled. He then walked over to the Mustang and dug the point of Martin's keys into the paintwork and scraped along the edge of the body. He then threw them at Martin, who was still cradling his midsection and said, "By the by, nice pin stripe! Hehehehe!"

**Prologue III**

Redwall City

"These streets are unpredictable. You cruise around minding your own business, leading the pack...then, you smash into a crash barrier!" The screen flashed with the phrases, _You Lose _and _Game Over_. Mattimeo slumped back in the driver seat mock up in front of the arcade machine with his friend Sam perched on the headrest. "Good try though," he said.

"Yeah, but I let the bastard get to me," Mattimeo replied as rummaged through his pockets looking for loose change, "Ohhh! And I'm out of money. Let's go!" The pair walked out into the parking lot up to a green Honda CRX. "Nevermind racing arcade games Mats, when you gonna do this thing up proper?"

"When I get a real job that pays well," Mattimeo replied fastening his seatbelt. He turned the ignition and the engine throbbed into life as the CRX took off into the night. After dropping Sam off at his house, Mattimeo drove home. "I'm home!" he called out as he walked through the front door. His mum walked by with a full laundry basket, "Hello dear. Did you have a nice time?"

"Sort off. Any messages?"

"Nothing much, more job rejections and that nice mousemaid Tess rang up asking for you. When are you going to bring her round to meet me and your father?"

"When her brother takes off her leash!" With that he went upstairs to his room. He walked over to his drawing table and clicked on the lamp. He stared longingly at the design sketches for his CRX. _If only..._ he thought to himself.


	2. Chapter 2

**TYPE R - Episode 1**

**1. WELCOME TO REDWALL CITY**

Redwall had grown a lot. The abbey still existed, but a bustling, thriving metropolis had built itself up in the surrounding area over the past couple of hundred years. The abbey itself and the patch old Mossflower wood that surrounded it had become a national park. The city itself was like any other, CBD in it's centre that was surrounded by the run down innercity, surrounded by suburban communities and so on. That day, the conference centre was hosting the Mossflower Motor Show. Sandokahn the fox, being accompanied by his college buddy Skalrag were wandering aimlessly around the numerous displays with concept and current cars with flashy promo videos. "You know, that'll be the last NSX variant Honda will ever make," Sandy said adjusting his ZEX freebee baseball cap. "Almost heartbreaking in a way," Skalrag replied. "Yeah well,"

"What's up?"

"Hmm..."

"You've been moping the past week or so. I thought Slipstream was going well!"

"It is,"

"So what's the problem?"

"I'm lonely. Skals," Sandy replied, "I wanna... you know..."

"Don't look at me!"

"Not you!"

They both wandered by the Ferrari exhibit, showcasing the new Enzo. They stopped by the adjacent vending machine and purchased drinks. "Sandy, mate, don't be a loser all your life! I mean, what happened to that vixen I was trying to set you up with?"

"I turned her down,"

"What! Why?"

"She just didn't excite me, y'know," Sandy replied before swigging a can of coke. "You must be the pickiest male out there. When it comes to losing their virginity..." Sandy clamped his paw over Skalrags' snout. "Don't say that word!"

"Look, all that I'm trying to say is, just settle for whatever comes your way. I mean, don't be so picky; actually go for it!"

"Easier said than done, mate!"

"And having a PMA won't kill ya either! Whatever happened to your optimism?" (NB: PMA = Positive Mental Attitude)

"It opt-ed out!" Skalrag then decided to change the subject. "You heard about the next Marlfox get-together?"

"Yeah I have actually," Sandy replied. "You gonna be there?" Skalrag asked in reply. Sandy tutted and said, "Why would that interest me?" Skalrag folded his paws and glared at him. "I think a former D1 world champion won't feel out of place at racers' meet. Besides I thought your license was just renewed," he continued.

"I'm not driving that R34 again," Sandy replied. "You don't have to! Just turn up in the old RX-7 FC. Remeber, the one Sparco sponsored for you?" Sandy loved that FC, that car took him to a drifting world championship in Tokyo three years ago. At that stage, Sandy was only 19 and the youngest foreigner ever to be awarded. "OK," he replied "I'll do it. I'll be there."

Late afternoon had settled on the bustling city, painting the skyline in bright oranges with tints of faded purple. The two foxes walked up to Skalrags' Audi RS6. Skalrag clicked a button on his keychain and a bleeping sound rang out into the calm, warm air. He then presented the keys to Sandy and said, "Wanna drive?" Sandy shrugged his shoulders and replied, "Might as well."

Slipstream Customs was Sandy's brainchild. He wanted to have something to do with cars when his license got taken away, so he opened a custom shop in the heart of the industrial district. Everybeast who walked in there wanted everything the pros had. Ball-bearing ceramic plated turbochargers, professional rally style sway bars and suspension kits, ECU computer systems to manage engine output electronically and of course the old laughing gas; nitrous oxide. The RS6 screeched to halt outside the shop, Sandy got out while giving enough space for Skalrag to move over into the drivers' seat. "I'll, um... see you tomorrow then," Skalrag said.

"Yeah, take it easy!" Sandy replied as Skalrag rolled up the window and the RS6 sped off into the night. The florescent light flickered and buzzed filling the empty shop floor with bright light. He glanced over to a padlocked door with the words _No Admittance _painted on it. He then walked over to a car covered by a dustsheet. He whipped it off to reveal a 1992 Mazda RX-7 FC, with his racing number (00) and numerous sponsor logos (mainly Sparco) plastered over it. He went up a metal spiral staircase that led to a two bedroom apartment. He grabbed a set of keys and made his way back down to the shop floor.

The engine had become a bit cluttered through lack of use and took several turns of the ignition to make the pistons rattle back into life. _Brings back memories,_ he thought to himself.


	3. Chapter 3

**2. WHO'S CITY IS IT ANYWAY?**

The Marlfox family gained their reputation in Mossflower as one of the richest. The family lived in a large mansion house in a leafy suburb of Redwall city called Songbreeze Avenue, it was built in the 1960's by the current generations' illustrious grandfather. The family had only been known recently as the seven siblings, four girls, three boys. Mokkan, the eldest male, Lurther, the eldest female and their five brothers and sisters: Vannan, Ziral, Geltor, Predak and Ascord.

Ascord had become a successful business-beast, Mokkan was the petrolhead and he LOVED cars, especially naughty foreign numbers like the Lamborghini Gallrado and the Ferrari 612 Scagriletti. Geltor hardly spent anytime round his siblings since he started hanging out with some friends in Loamhedge, a good long way south across the Stonefleck bridge, which was suspended above Malkaris Gorge. Lurther was in prison after murdering their mother. Mokkan and the others agreed that she was dead to them. Ziral had a flair for cars aswell, but not into it as her brother. While Vannan and Predak ran an art shop. And every month, Mokkan held a get-together for all the street racing crews in Redwall and the surrounding areas.

Mokkan looked the part in his grey smart suit with the shirt's collar button undone, his Ray-ban sunglasses and his Gucci loafers. He descended the white limestone steps into the large open back garden. The lawn was packed with all natures of cars, American muscle cars, Japanese tuners and home-grown, high rolling exotics. Music of all genres filled his ears as he glanced up at the sky and inhaled the late afternoon air.

Sandokhan sat in a spot on his own, he had been out of the loop two years and was a bit anxious about meeting new faces. He occasionally glanced left to watch the cars as they came in off the street. One was a green Honda CRX. Mattimeo parked next to Sandy, "You don't mind if I set up here do you?" Mats asked leaning out his window. Sandy replied, "Go ahead!"

"That's YOUR car?!" Mats exclaimed as he emerged from his CRX.

"Er... yeah. I know it's not much to look at..." Mats interrupted him mid-sentence with showers of praise. "YOU KIDDING? I would LOVE to have an FC like this!" He then extended his paw in friendship, "The name's Mattimeo by the way. But every beast calls me Mats."

"Sandokhan, but you can call me Sandy."

Mokkan noticed the two talking and joking amongst themselves, he walked up to the CRX and approached them with open paws. "Hey there!" he called. "You haven't been to one of my meets before have you? Where you from, friend?" Mats opened the side door and stepped out. Sandy slid off the front bonnet and introduced himself. "I'm from the old industrial complex on the Westside of town, what's happening?"

"Relax, this isn't a parade. However most cruisers seem to treat my meets as one! Heh heh! Mokkan Marlfox!" Sandy shook his paw firmly and replied, "Sandy Brushtail."

"And I'm Mattimeo!" Mats blurted out loudly. Mocca chuckled "That's a good name too! I'll get back to you to know you beasts a bit better in a moment. In the meantime let me introduce you to my sister," Mokkan then snapped his claws and called out, "Ziral!" Then a slender vixen with dark grey fur, wearing a tight-fitting N.O.S. t-shirt and a black hooded sweatshirt walked up to them. As she approached earshot Mokkan said, "Hey sis, could you look after our guests while I attend my other obligations?"

Ziral eyed Sandy up and down, his blue Toronto hockey jersey, black jeans and black Converse sneakers. "Of course I will," she replied. "Please excuse me," Mokkan said before wandering between the numerous cars. There was a sort of uncomfortable silence, Sandy had never really had much experience talking to vixens so the pair just exchanged awkward glances at each other, before Ziral broke the ice a little.

"You race?" she asked. "I drift. Well...er...that is, I used to." Deep down Sandy was blushing from ear tip to tail. Another awkward silence fell over the trio before Ziral intervened. "Anyway, let me introduce you to our more, how should I put this? Distinguished guests." Both Sandy and Ziral sat on the FD's engine bonnet as she pointed out several large groups, "Those guys over there, in the big SUV's, are _The Racing Stripes_. They hang out mostly at Salamandastron Speedway and rally track. But they ain't into racing, they're really into the flexing side of things." Sandy peered hard at one of the badgers that was tending to a Subaru RS 1.4 Coupe. "Woah! That's Sunstripe! I saw him race rally-cross up in Finland last year. What's he doing street racing?"

"He's already world champion, so why try harder?" Ziral then turned her attention over to some otters huddled around an Eclipse GSX, an Impreza WRX STi and a Nissan 350Z. "Those riverside mammals are _Aqua-vita_..."

"Aqua-vita? The Water of Life?" Sandy interupted. "That's a bit long-winded for a crew name."

"They come from Salamandastron Dockyards," Ziral continued. "Their leader, Finnbar, he loves Japanese cars. Swears they're the best thing since sliced bread," she then turned her claw pointing over to a group of woodlanders tending to numerous tuner cars. The one that grabbed Sandy's attention was a bright pink Toyota Celica. "Those rides over there belong to the _Noonvale Nightriders_. They come from up north, but they never miss one of my brothers' parties."

Sandy noticed a mouse all alone standing next to a beat up Ford Mustang Cobra, with a long scratch along the body. "Who's that?"

"Don't know," Ziral replied, "Never seen him before."

The still evening air was then torn by the approaching sounds of high-octane engines. Ziral's face suddenly sank. "Oh great," she moaned. "Here comes the star attractions!" Sandy turned his head towards the rear gate to see a red Ferrari 575M Maranello glide noisily along the back lawn. Followed by a blue Toyota Supra TT with green tinted windows and Bob Marley blaring out the stereo. The third car was a purple Dodge SRT-10 Viper with a squirrelmaid behind the wheel, followed by a black Opel Speedster (NB: Opel Speedster is also known as Vauxhall VX220 Turbo) and a regal blue Chevrolet Camaro SS. The driver of the 575, a stocky built squirrel beeped his horn and called out to Mokkan, "Mocca! Your parties are, as ever, a triumph!" He then parked his car while the others filed in. He took Mokkan's paw and shook it, "I can only apologise for my late arrival!"

"Well nevermind amigo! How are you?"

"Our turf is getting crossed upon. Barbarians at the gates! A time for rewarding and liquidating..."

Sandy then nudged Ziral, "Who's the loud-mouthed squirrel?"

"Rustiredd. Head of the _Redwall Redliners_. He's Mr. Noz! That 575 Ferrari is practically unbeatable!"

"Hmm, I've heard that before!"

The squirrel Rustiredd glanced over towards the FD and saw Ziral sitting with some badly dressed fox he had never seen before. He paced over to them and opened his paws in a gesture. "Ziral," he said as he tried to kiss her on the snout, but Ziral pushed him away. "Get off me!" she shouted. Mokkan overheard them and gazed hard at the scene. Rusti brushed himself off and turned his attention to Sandy, "Who the hell is this? She don't need anymore friends, mush!" At that point Mokkan intervened, "What's going on?" He enquired. Ziral grabbed Sandy's arm as she explained, "He's trying to hit on me...AGAIN!" Rusti looked emotionally injured at Ziral's accusation. "Hey," he replied, "I'm only trying to be friendly! But, I know when I'm not welcome."

As he walked away, Ziral said to Sandy, "I sooo despise that wanker!" Rusti paused for a moment before walking on, _every dog has his day_, he thought. The evening had drawn in and the yard was starting to wallow in the multicoloured glow of neon lights. Sandy walked over to Martin's Mustang and exchanged pleasantries. "Hey," he called out. Martin looked round and replied by bobbing his head in a respectful gesture. "Nice ride,"

"Thanks," Martin replied. "A bit banged up though." Sandy knelt down next to it and ran his paws over the bodywork, "I can fix it for you. I'm a fabricator...of sorts."

"Probably cost a lot though," Martin replied.

"Sounds like you're flat broke,"

"Some evil bastards jacked me! I only had enough to pay for the gas and some food on the way down here," Martin continued.

"No job? No place to live?"

"Nope."

A thought ran through Sandy's mind. "You into cars?" He asked. Martin nodded. "You any good with an engine?" Again, Martin nodded. Sandy then produced a card from his wallet and handed it to him, "If you're interested, a run a custom car shop in the industrial district. I could fix this thing up and you could pay me by working for me. How's that sound?" Martin thought hard while he read the card. Then he replied, "Sounds tempting. I'll get back to you."

"The names Sandy by the way,"

"Martin."

"Seems like you made a new friend!" Martin spun round to see a young mousemaid wearing a black skinny top. Martin smiled and embraced her laughing, " Ha ha, Rose! What you doing down here?"

"I'm surprised you didn't notice my little pink coupe!" Sandy left the pair to attend to his FC. When he got back, he noticed that the car was lower than normal. He then noticed that his tyres were slashed. His jaw dropped. He looked around for any likely suspects, then he eyed Rusti who was pointing and laughing at him. Mats came over with two bottles of coke, then he noticed the expression on Sandy's face. "What's up?" Sandy just pointed to his four flat tyres. "Who the fuck did that?"

Ziral overheard them and came over concerned. "What's happened?"

"Some tail has slashed Sandy's tyres!" Mats exclaimed. Ziral then put a reassuring paw on Sandy's shoulder. "Hey, you can change them in the garage. C'mon." The sight of the two heading towards the house infuriated Rusti. "HEY!" he yelled, "Don't you even think of getting any funny ideas!" Ziral turned around and glared at the squirrel evilly. Then Finbar, the lead driver with Aqua-vita walked up to him, "Hey tree-whalloper! Keep it down, she's only being helpful." Rusti stood glaring at him. "Is that a challenge?" he sneered.

The lean otter folded his arms and replied, "Maybe. Just 'cause you drive a Ferrari don't mean every beast should bend over and kiss your tail-end!"

"I guess that means... it's ON!" Everybeast there stopped and looked up at the pair. "Team race, your best two drivers, against MY best two drivers." Finbar glared hard into Rusti's eyes before replying. "I accept. But I choose the route!"

Away from the commotion, Sandy expected the damage to the tyres with Mokkan looking over him. "No problem, all I need to do is just replace them. You got any spares?"

"Yeah, follow me." As Mokkan open the door into the garage and Sandy's eyes went wide. The garage was full of different cars of all descriptions. Sandy wandered around them his mouth dropped to the floor. "Is this a GARAGE or a MUSEUM?!" He knelt beside a exotic sports car from the 1980's. "This is a Lamborghini Countash! There's only a few working ones left in the world!"

"Yeah, but it's not that much fun to drive. The steering is heavy, you need a sledgehammer to change gear, if you go over a certain rpm there's a faint smell of petrol and you break your back trying to get out of the damn thing!" Mokkan commented. Sandy then looked around pointing out various models. "A 1970 Dodge Charger... Mercedes McClaren SLR... is that a Jag XJ220? You even have a Ford GT40!!" Mokkan sneered, "I wish! It's a replica. You know the real GT40 beat Ferrari at Le Manns four years in a row?" Sandy then eyed a 1992 Honda NSX R and nudged Mokkan, "Who does that belong to?" Mokkan turned his head briefly. "What that one? That belongs to Ziral. She always wanted to pimp it out proper style, you know what I'm sayin'?"

Meanwhile outside, tempers flared up between Rusti and Finnbar. An empty oil pan was placed on the hood of the blue Supra, as competitors threw sums of money into it. Finbar opened the bidding, "27, 000!" Rusti sneered at the sum, "Chicken-feed! I'll see your 27 and raise you an extra 23K!" Finbar turned to Cheek, Aero-vita's resident mechanic and conversed in hushed tones. Finbar then turned back to Rusti, "Ok Mr. Noz or whatever the hell they call you, we accept. Who'd you pick?"

"Me, obviously! And... Triss." The squirelmaid Triss, stood by her SRT-10 nodding her head. Just then, Dandin, the owner of the Camaro protested loudly. "HEY! HOW COME YOU NEVER PICK ME?"

"BECAUSE YOU NEVER WIN, TAIL-FOR-BRAINS!" Rusti shouted in reply at the young mouse. Dandin turned his gaze to the ground crestfallen. "Yo," Cheek perked up, "How's he gonna get any better, if you don't let him join in on all the fun?" Rusti shook his clenched paws with frustration before nodding his head in agreement. "Alright, alright. I'll play along. You got the route?" The driver of the Eclipse, the otter Starwort, produced a map from his glove compartment and unfurled it on the hood of Dandin's Camaro. His paw traced the lines in the map. "OK," Finnbar began, "we start here, the corner of Mordalfus and Bay. Then we go right, through the inner-city projects, until we reach Germaine Street, from there it's a straight on drag race to the top of the hill. The first crew to get BOTH their drivers across the line wins." Rusti nodded in agreement. Then he emptied the cash into a small cloth sack and threw it to Deyna, the owner of the Supra. "Deyna! Keep an eye on this. Who'd you pick?"

"Myself and Cheek 'ere!" Finnbar patted Cheek on the back as he answered. "STi WRX and a 350Z eh? Reckon their tuned up enough to cope with the ferocity a Ferrari can offer?"

"See you on the street... Punk!" Cheek spat in reply. As respected drivers returned to their vehicles, Finnbar turned to Starwort, "'Ere mate. Follow Deyna and see that he don't do a runner." Starwort nodded in reply.

Sandy left Songbreeze Avenue that night riding on some new rubber and some new business. The rolled up cigarette he inhaled tasted somewhat sweeter. Of all the thoughts passing through his head, the image of Ziral seemed to linger the most strongest. However, the sudden ringing of this mobile phone brought him back down to earth. He pulled over by the side of the road before he answered. "Hello,"

"Sorry Sandy, are you busy?" Sandy recognised the voice on the end of the line. "Martin? No, it's good to hear from you. What's up?"

"I thought about your offer for work and I'd like to do it"

"That's good! Where are you right now?"

"Er... your place!"

The bright headlights beamed off a Mustang in the loading driveway of Slipstream Customs. Sure enough, Martin was sitting on the hood with a duffle bag. Meanwhile, back at the Marlfox estate, Ascord sat in the lounge with a laptop on the coffee table as Mokkan walked in and slumped in an armchair. "I'm exhausted," he exclaimed.

"Poor baby! Strained your paw lifting car bonnets?" Ascord replied sarcastically, his eyes still glued to the computer screen. "No! In fact it's been a very stressful day. However on the plus side I think our sisters got a new fling!"

"That's nice… Damn! The DOW has dropped 40 points!"

"Do you talk about anything except money?"


	4. Chapter 4

**3. THE FAST AND THE FURRY-OUS**

Deyna and Triss had parked both their cars at either side of the deserted street corner. Triss sat in her SRT-10 listening to the radio scrambler on her dashboard for Long Patrol radio signals. Deyna had painted a red line in front of them while inhaling a marijuana joint clamped in his mouth. He withdrew it and inhaled as stood upright. "Anything?" Triss looked up at him, "There's some domestic disturbance. Looks like we're in the clear."

They both suddenly looked up as they heard the sound of an Eclipse rumble towards them. Soon enough, Starwort's GSX pulled up next to them. He stepped out and smiled. "Need help?" Deyna beamed at the sight of his old friend and embraced him. "Starwort, Sup!"

"Haha. Deyna, me old mate! Cheek and Finbar are on their way up. Where's the others?" Deyna withdrew the joint and inhaled again. "They should be here any minute. You want some on this?" He replied offering the joint to Starwort. "Nah! I ain't down with that." He then turned his attention to Triss. "And how's you Triss?"

Triss simply returned a smile. Just them, they were all temporarily blinded by bright halogen headlights and the distinctive sound of Less Than Jake filled their ears. "HEY PEEPS!" Cheek exclaimed as he leaned out the drivers' side window. In quick succession, Finbar appeared behind him in his 350Z.

The two otters had positioned themselves behind the red start line, waiting for the others to turn up. Starwort had left for the finishing line at the top of the hill, old Redwall abbey. Dandin and his Camaro was the first to show and took his place beside Cheeks Impreza. They waited for a moment for Rusti and his Ferrari, but it never came. As time went on, they all looked at their cell phones and watches. "Where is he? He's half an hour late," said Triss. "Maybe he ain't turning up," said Cheek.

"Oh he'll turn up, there's toom much money riding on this," said Dandin. Soon enough they all heard the sound of a thunderous V12 blear out over the night air and in time Rusti pulled up along Dandins' Camaro. "You're late!" Said Cheek. "Let's just get this over with," said Rusti.

The still night air was shattered as all four drivers revved their engines noisily. Triss stood behind her SRT-10 with a aerosol blast horn. She raised her arm in front of her before shouting, "LET'S DO IT!!" The blast rang out even louder than the throbbing pistons. In that split second, all four handbrakes were released and tires screeched and squealed as hundreds of ft/lbs of torque were transferred to tarmac. The Impreza's 4WD gave it a quick advantage off the line, however the sheer horsepower of the 575 alone gave Rusti a good lead. As Cheek gaped at the Ferrari gaining headway in front of him, he was more concerned listening to the change in the engines' pitch to make that perfect gear shift.

As they all made the first turn into the projects, the 575 was leading with Cheek right on it's tail in the Impreza. The 350Z and the Camaro were head to head, desperately trying to position themselves to help their team-mates. Finnbar executed a perfect power slide, but the Camaro nudged him and the 350Z was sent into a fishtail spin.

But Finbar took his foot-paw off the accelerator and he turned the wheel aggressively to compensate. The 350Z came out of the spin and chased after the Camaro. Dandin looked back into his mirror and saw Finnbar getting closer and closer. The 575 had proven more than a match for the Impreza as they turned onto Germaine street, and at the end of the straight was the finishing line. As both Rusti and Cheek came out of the turn they floored it. Cheek was constantly looking at his tachometer waiting to reach top gear and kick in the N2O.

Suddenly, he saw a faint vapour trail as the 575 inched away from him. The needle on Cheeks' tachometer reached the red line and he threw the gear stick into top. The high hissing sound of the blow-off valve on the turbo was the go ahead. Without hesitation, he pulled a flap switch on the steering column and he felt the g forces pinning him back into his seat as the bright streetlights turned into streaks as he sped off in pursuit.

Rusti looked into his rear view mirror and spat at the sight of a Subaru trying to outrun a Ferrari. _Get lost! _As he approached the top of the slope, he saw the silhouette of the old abbey looming in front of him, illuminated in floodlights.

Rusti whooped with delight and took both his paws off the steering as he braked hard. The 575 went into an uncontrollable 360 spin, with smoke billowing of his tyres. The Impreza skidded to an abrupt halt. Rusti was praying that Dandin was next over the line. However, those hopes were dashed when the 350Z finished third and the Camaro finishing last.

The 350Z parked alongside the Impreza with Rusti looking on through narrowed eyes as Finbar and Cheek exchanged respect knuckles. They all waited for Deyna and his Supra to arrive with the prize money. Rusti strolled over to the two otters, his features distorted with annoyance. "You had the unfair advantage!"

He turned his gaze to Cheek whom was smiling intently. "What the fuck are you so happy about?"

"Being a better driver ain't no unfair advantage!"

The air was suddenly cut by the sound of Deyna's Supra being followed by Triss and Starwort. Deyna handed the money sack to Finbar. "Laters. Better luck next…"

He was cut short by Triss who ushered for silence so she could listen to the scanner. She turned up the volume and the slightly distorted voice came through the speaker. _"Attention all units, we just had a complaint come through to 999 about a group of reckless drivers. Last seen heading northbound along Germaine Street. I need a unit to clear up and head out that way."_

_"Any more details?"_

_"Suspects are driving a red Ferrari and a blue Subaru..."_

"LONG PATROL! PEG IT!!" All respected racers scrambled back to their cars and sped off into the night.

**Epilogue**

Martin awoke the following morning on an undressed mattress in the guest bedroom of Sandy's apartment. He stretched and yawned as heard loud banging and rattling noises from the workshop downstairs. He sat up, staring out the window, his train of thought stopped abruptly when Sandy appeared through the door wearing overalls with a mug of coffee. "Alright, spare overalls are in your new locker. We open on Sundays only for a few hours but that don't mean we can slack off," Sandy said as he tossed a locker key on Martin's mattress and placed the mug of coffee on the bedside table.

"How much does this job pay?"

"250 a week. 75 goes towards the bill for your Mustang."

"I thought illicit street racing brought in the big bucks?"

"Whoa! One step at a time. Now I'll be down in the workshop starting on your Mustang!"

Just then, they heard a engine pulling up outside followed by a loud horn. Sandy strolled outside to see a green CRX. He recognised the driver as the window rolled down with a faint buzz. "Mats! 'Sup?"

"This might seem like a odd question, but do you have any jobs going?"

"Are you any good with an engine?"

"Actually, I want to show you my portfolio."

As the pair conversed Martin's attention was diverted by the padlocked door with _no admittance_ painted on it. He took the heavily weighted padlock in his paws, his face filled with curiosity. At that point Sandy was showing Mats upstairs before he spyed Martin. "Can I help you with anything Martin?"

"How come this is the only locked door on the shop floor. What have you got in there?"

"My very own collection of severed heads!" Sandy smirked. However, the remark had no effect on Martin. "It's the parts' storage cupboard, alright?!" Sandy replied in a stern voice.


End file.
